


I Believe This Is Your Life (And It Can Rule You)

by RemoCon



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Post-Winter Soldier, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:25:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1570829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemoCon/pseuds/RemoCon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I think you're going to have to come to New York after all.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Or the one where the science is a coping mechanism, Hydra has a vested interesting in seeing the Avengers dead, and everyone still has to figure out how they fit together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Don't Believe That Anything Good

Pepper and Rhodey have stopped trying to talk to him, but Tony knew they were just sitting outside, waiting. This is what maturity looked like, finally. They won't leave him-- they would never leave him. But they trust him that if he wants to be alone, he's not going to go off and drink a bottle or two of Jack, design a new suit and fly straight to the remnants of SHIELD headquarters just to see if there are any fuckers left he can have a word with.

He wants to.

Dear ol' mom and dad. Doesn't it sound just like them to get killed for trying to do the right thing for once. Dad's brand of righteousness was always just laying one brick after another straight to hell.

"Hello, Doctor Banner," JARVIS said.

"I'm pretty sure I said no more intruders, well wishers, or people making sad eyes at me tonight. We're currently only accepting hand written notes slipped under the door, " Tony said, the attempted levity bitter on his tongue. He turned to look at Bruce, wrench still in hand. Bruce's eyes flickered from the tool to the pile of junk on the desk, in exactly the same state it had been hours ago.

"Just here to get your opinion on these equations," Bruce said, holding out a tablet. Which Tony had noticed before. Because he'd definitely been paying attention.

"Liar," Tony accused, taking the tablet all the same. "Pepper and Rhodey sent you. You've turned traitor. After I gave you a whole floor of my building. Is nothing sacred?"

Bruce just gave him a bored look-- he had officially been around too long, because only two other people had ever acquired that same level of apathy towards his antics. Abso-fucking-lutely a traitor, then. He'd probably been having dinner with them behind Tony's back.

He glanced down at the tablet. Then had to look down again.

"What the hell is this?" Tony demanded. Bruce shrugged.

"I've been combing through some of the research that was dumped onto the web with the rest of SHIELD's secrets," Bruce said, watching-- and probably noticing the flinch at the mention. "That's a snippet of Jane Foster's work."

"This is a work of goddamn art, if I'm reading any of this right, which, come on," Tony said, scanning the rest of the file.

"I thought you might be interested," Bruce said.

"Who's this Jane Foster? Get her here immediately. JARVIS," Tony called out, "Find me Jane Foster."

"Right away, sir," JARVIS replied.

It's such an obvious distraction. Hydra's pet assassin had still killed his parents. (To say nothing of the pages and pages of personal secrets that several of his new teammates had had blogged and reblogged thousands of times across the internet-- and the volumes of Stark Tech that JARVIS and the entirety of the IT department were doing their best to track down before too many rivals companies got their greasy little fingers on it)

But he'd take it.

***

"This is a disaster," Jane moaned, staring at her laptop like it had personally stolen her research. "I'm screwed. I'm so completely screwed."

"I don't get what's the problem," Darcy said, plopping down on the desk.

"The problem," Jane repeated, her voice shooting up to a squeak. "The problem?! All of my research. All of it! It's just...online! Un-reviewed, unpublished, un-publishable! Who's going to take my work now when it's just out there for any half-rate hack to look at! It's not even finished! And now..."

She slumped forward, forehead pressed against the desk.

"Fucking SHIELD," she swore.

"I mean, they were kinda infiltrated by a secret Nazi group," Darcy reminded her. Thor wandered in, carrying the cup of tea he'd gone off to make, hoping to soothe Jane's distress. "Oh man, does that mean you were working for Nazis, dude?"

"Darcy!" Jane hissed.

"I do not believe that any of my companions had ties to Hydra," Thor said easily, gently placing the cup next to Jane. "But it would seem that no matter where I go, it is becoming difficult to know where to place one's loyalties. Perhaps such is the way of the universe."

Jane lifted her head, mouth open and halfway to some well meant platitude, when her phone rang.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Darcy asked, taking a sip of Jane's tea.

"Isn't that what you're here for?" Jane retorted, reaching across the desk. She blinked.

"Thor, why is Tony Stark calling me?"

***

The nights were too short. Summer settled uncomfortably in New York, the heat trapped between buildings and someone itching at the back of his memory flushed and swearing, "I'm fine, Buck, stop worrying so much."

It was harder, much harder, to go unnoticed under the harsh sunlight. If he wore no jacket it reflected off his arm like a beacon to anyone looking-- if he did then everyone stared, wondering how he could stand it in the heat.

There was a word for this feeling, this one feeling he had burrowed in his chest that thrummed with a clarity none of the others had yet achieved.

Ah-- yes. The Winter Soldier _hated_ summer.

But it wasn't until the season's peak that the Man on the Bridge finally came to Stark Towers.

***

"Did you know Thor had a girlfriend?" Tony asked, curled around Pepper in their bed. The AC blasted from the ceiling-- she had protested, at first: "If it's too hot, we don't have to sleep together every night, Tony" but he just reminded her that he could afford the electricity bill. He didn't have to say that he slept better with her pressed against him, her extra heat reminding him that they were both still alive. "What am I saying, of course you did."

"Let me guess," Pepper said. "I should be expecting some new guests in the near future."

"Not guests," Tony corrected. "Well, one guest. Thor's finally seen the light and is coming to claim his floor."

"I see," Pepper said mildly. "He's just suddenly changed his mind, then."

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed, but some things have happened recently. Strength in numbers, blah, blah blah," Tony replied. Pepper's hand skated over his chest, as if there was still an arc reactor to trace circles around. Old habits and all that.

"And that's all."

"It's possible Doctor Foster might have some interesting research," Tony admitted.

"So Thor's moving in because you want to pick his girlfriend's brain."

"Please, try and make it sound less sexy. What am I? Come on, babe, I want to invent something cool. I invited her to help."

Pepper's hand stilled, pressed firmly against his chest. She pushed herself up and looked Tony straight in the eye.

"Do I need to be worried, Tony?" she asked. It was panic attacks at the mere mention of the city they lived in half the time-- it was dozens of suits hidden underneath his lab-- hell, it was probably a sudden transfer of company power and not telling anyone he was sick and a million other things. The patented Tony Stark coping mechanisms.

"In general? Probably. But not about this. This is just going to be amazing," he promised.

"I'll hold you to that," Pepper warned.

"You can hold anything you want, babe. Any time."

***

"Nice press conference," Clint said into his phone, just around the corner from Stark Tower. The sun was just beginning to peak over the tops of buildings, the shadows long and deep, covering him in the alley from all but the most observant. Who the man in the apartment across the street thought he was fooling, with no furniture and an impressive array of weapons at his disposal, Clint didn't know. Since neither Stark nor Banner had noticed him, the answer was at least one third of the Avengers.

"It was an official inquiry," Natasha replied, but he can hear the smirk on her face.

"I'm sure at least a couple of those senators are trying to think of something real nasty to do to you."

"Only a couple? I must be losing my touch."

She hasn't asked for an apology, and he hasn't offered one. "You'd have been there if you could," she'd just say. He knew that. But--

"When are you coming back to New York, Tasha?" he murmured, half hoping his words would be lost in transit. Stark Tech, though, was nothing if not exemplary. He'd yet to find a perch their satellites couldn't reach-- you'd probably have to go to the moon to lose service.

"I gotta figure some things out first, Clint," she replied.

"I know," he said.

"Steve has the file," she said, changing topics, away from someone having to say those three dangerous words. (Though his heart whispered them just fine on repeat anyway: I miss you, I miss you, I miss you)

"He's really going after him." The man across the street moved around, checking out each window, dangerous even in rote. Clint pressed harder against the alley wall. Natasha snorted.

"Who couldn't see that coming? He's not the kind of person who knows when to give up," she said. "That's not always a bad thing. We could probably use more of that in our lives."

"So if I said I was looking right at him, would you tell Cap?"

It's rather like stumbling upon the Loch Ness Monster, catching Natasha by surprise. Even if you get a picture of it, no one will believe you.

"No, probably not yet," she said slowly.

"Then forget I said anything. So tell me, where does Stark keep the really good coffee?"

***

The city smelled wrong. Too many people clogged the streets snapping pictures on their phones-- a security risk-- never let there be a trace that you exist-- you must be as one who is dead.

A store front, here and there, snagged on a fragment of memory he couldn't quite hold onto. Mostly he found himself wandering around the same area, tracing a path that he knew led somewhere. Someday he might know what it was-- or maybe who it was.

Someday he might know if he wanted to.

Only one night had anyone bothered him, their arm snapped in three places all for a wallet that did not exist. He should've just shot him. Clean, efficient, no trail.

"I'm not going to fight you," the Man choked out, losing a fight the Winter Soldier suddenly did not want to win.

He hadn't shot the man. There was a trail now, however small. He wondered if anyone out there wanted to follow it. He wondered what he would do if anyone did.

At night, instead of the North Star he followed the bright A of Stark Tower home. Echoes of someone called America laughing filled his apartment as he stared across the way, letting the light burn his eyes.

***

It was Bruce's turn to cook breakfast. Pepper, not long after Bruce had moved in, had made a point to carve out an hour every Friday she was in New York to spend together.

"You really don't have to," Bruce had protested.

"I want to," she had said. He didn't have to ask why before she smiled and said, "Technically we live together, and I'd hate to not know my roommates. Besides, Tony's decided you're one of his people, and it makes me feel better to find out if he's right myself. And-- because you saved him. So are you more of a scrambled or over-easy kind of guy?"

Pepper, Bruce had learned, made the most delicious if occasionally bizarre food. Years of trying to make sure Tony didn't accidentally starve to death, she'd explained once.

"This is amazing!" she'd said, the first time Bruce cooked, a little too genuinely surprised.

"Years of living alone," he'd replied. Pepper's laugh reminded Bruce of nights spent a little too sleep deprived, giggling into scientific journals with Betty. (If a small piece of him yearned for more than that casual intimacy with Pepper-- with Tony-- well, he'd gotten good at stamping out those kind of feelings)

"This looks amazing," she said at the first sight of the finished omelets.

"Thank you," Bruce said, taking his seat at the table. Pepper had already brewed his tea just the way he liked it, the mug ready and waiting next to her half-drunk coffee. Clint would probably wander in sooner or later, lured by the promise of high-quality caffeine.

"It's not an addiction," Clint had said. "Not really a great idea for secret agents to have that kind of problem. But I'm not above enjoying the finer things in life, and this coffee is definitely the finest I've ever tasted. Could I get some of this in my kitchen?"

"That coffee is for my own personal use," Tony had said loftily. "You want it, you have to come get it. Who knows what terrible things you do to it?"

"Can't be worse than you," Pepper had said, swatting him gently on the back of his head. But they didn't give Clint his own supply, and he never asked again. It was, Bruce supposed, one of Tony's schemes to force socializing-- _team bonding_ , Tony's voice hissed.

"I have a favor to ask," Pepper said, her hands curling around her coffee cup.

"Oh?"

Stop Tony from what he's about to do. Tell me exactly what it is Tony's planning on doing. Leave the tower, at least just once.

"Would you mind looking over the proposal for Stark Industries' charitable donations toward healthcare in impoverished areas? I could really use the eye of someone who's worked in those conditions before I sign off on anything," she said.

Stark Industries wasn't exactly lacking in connections. She could have twelve different opinions from leading figures in all aspects of that kind of work. She'd asked him anyway-- and there wasn't even a trace of Tony in this, who as long as the company wasn't burning to the ground, had only a passing knowledge of its functions.

"I--" he cleared his throat, the automatic refusal catching on his very real desire to be useful to Pepper. "If you're sure," he finished lamely.

Usually, Pepper smiled as a woman confident in getting her way. With him, it always looked like a real victory, rather than a foregone conclusion.

"So tell me," she said, a familiar glint sparkling in her eyes that was reserved exclusively for Tony matters, "Should I just have the contractors on standby, or is this project more of a long term damage kind of thing? We're already down a house."

Bruce smiled into his tea.

"I wouldn't worry. I'll be surprised if there are any results at all in the next few years."

"We're talking about the man who invented a new power source while captured by terrorist in the desert and invented a new element in his basement. Believe me, worry isn't always a strong enough emotion."

***

"Woah, this place is awesome. Man, just think a year ago you hadn't even left your apartment in like, three months. And now you've got this."

"Doctor Foster," Tony said, striding towards the odd trio standing in the lobby, surrounded by a few too many suitcases, "Nice to meet you. Long time no see, big guy. You've been working out? And who's the one looking like she's wondering which piece of art she could make off with?"

"Sorry, she's my intern-- Darcy, that's Darcy-- stop ogling," Jane hissed, her hair sticking out in ways that a little bit more Albert Einstein than she would've liked.

"'Sup, Iron Man," Darcy said. She dug her phone out of her purse. "Smile! Oh man, Ian is going to wet himself."

"Ian's my intern," she added.

"Don't ask," Jane said darkly. The biggest case toppled over, full of textbooks if the resounding bang was anything to go by.

"I've got people for that," Tony said, squeezing his way between Thor and Jane. Slinging his arm around her shoulder, her started walking back toward the elevator, half-dragging her with along. "We've got better things to do. You're going to love the labs."

"But, Thor-- all my stuff," Jane said. "I still smell like plane. I'm pretty sure I haven't eaten in three days."

"Great, you're already to go," he said. The elevator dinged.

"Don't do anything you'll feel bad telling Thor's abs later!" Darcy shouted. Jane's face flushed.

"Never fear," Tony said, steering her into the elevator. "I'm a happily committed man now."

"Me too," Jane said swiftly. "I mean. Committed. Not a man. Obviously. But committed."

"Great, we're all just super monogamous," Tony said. The door slid shut in front of them. "Now about your research--"

***

Considering there was a prominent business leader, more than a handful of the world's leading scientists, and now two thirds of the Avengers in Stark Towers, the number of Hydra agents sent to scope out the building was an insult. Tony would probably just say even Hydra wasn't stupid enough to try something like that, but he hadn't noticed the sudden 300% percent jump in number of bodies found in nearby allies. Clint had.

The Winter Soldier was very good at hiding his work when he wanted to, and a weapon that hadn't returned to its owners had every reason to want to. Hydra would send larger teams before long, when they figured out that their own tool was taking down their agents.

"Natasha, I'm going to do something stupid," Clint said into his phone.

"Stupid like I need to be on a plane right now?" Natasha asked.

"Stupid sort of like I was with you, when I brought you in," Clint replied. "So maybe I'm actually about to be a genius. What'd you think, do I get a medal if I go two for two with ex-Russian assassins?"

"You're going to engage with the Winter Soldier," Natasha said flatly, as though giving Clint the opportunity to see the error of his ways.

"Engage is a strong word," Clint said. "Just, the guy looks like he could use some new clothes. Maybe some food. He is taking care of any potential Hydra problem for us. Doesn't one good deed deserve another?"

"Clint," she said.

"I know, Tasha," he said. "He's probably just looking out for himself. But he's still there. Is it time to tell Cap, yet?"

The silence was more uncomfortable than an outright refusal.

"Then I'm going to try and make sure Cap's long lost friend doesn't look like a starving bum for whenever it is time," Clint said.

"That's not going to make Steve less angry," Natasha pointed out.

"No," Clint said. "But it will make me feel better."

"If you get shot, don't say I didn't warn you," Natasha said.

"Maybe you should get on that plane after all. You know how much better I do with face to face warnings," Clint said. It wasn't as though he'd suddenly start personalizing his apartment with all his favorite action figures or anything if she came. It was just-- no matter where he was, it never quite felt like home if she wasn't there. (He'd say home is where the heart is, but his inner Tony couldn't stop laughing. That guy could really get in your head if you let him)

"I've still got--"

"Things to take care of. I know. Guess I was just reminding you I'll be here whenever you finish."

***

"For people not chasing down the remnants of Hyrda, we sure keep fighting them a lot," Sam said. "Did they not get the memo?"

"Hydra never did like it when I touched their stuff," Steve said, his shield swerving back to him in that impossible curve, taking out the last agent with it. Sam stepped over said agent on the way to the files the man had been trying to hide.

"Let's see what we have here," Sam said, crouching down. "Russian...German...and oh yeah, some more Russian. These should come in handy."

"Grab them anyway. I'll look at them later," Steve said. For a secret lair, the building looked a great deal like a normal office building, sans a few new holes in the walls. He wasn't sure if that made it easier, or not. He kept expecting dark room full of dangerous vials and tables with inhuman restraints-- some sign that Bucky had been here. That'd they done something to Bucky here.

"Look, Steve," Sam said, in his "You're not going to like it but it needs to be said" voice. "I don't think he's been here. Hell, he hasn't been there at the last five places we checked out. I know you think he's going to go off on this epic quest for vengeance. But, dude, what if he never does?"

"Bucky would never--" Steve started to say, clamping his lips down around the rest of the thought at the knowing look on Sam's face. Bucky would never let them get away with doing that to him. But he did let them-- because he's not Bucky anymore.

Steve didn't want to hear it.

"Just grab the files," Steve said roughly. "I'm going to go check the other rooms."

***

Rhodey had already ordered by the time Tony dragged himself out of the lab and to the restaurant.

"Always so thoughtful, babe," Tony said, snagging a french-fry as he slid into his seat. Rhodey swatted at his hand.

"That's not for you. People who are an hour late don't get any of this," Rhodey said, his hand sweeping across the table.

"Only an hour? That's so punctual. I knew I had at least another hour to work, but Bruce just got so tense thinking of you sitting here all by your lonesome. You know how he worries."

"Uh huh."

"Waiter," Tony called to the nearest server. "I'll have another one of each of these."

"Tony--"

"Don't worry, I've got a god living with me now. I need all the leftovers I can carry." HIs hand darted across the table, stealing another fry.

"How's that going?" Rhodey asked, sitting back and taking a sip of his beer, keeping a careful tally of the fries Tony owed him. Let Tony take the old cold ones. Rhodey could wait.

"It's just a grand old time. Really a thing to see. The things I've learned this past week--"

"So you haven't talked to him at all," Rhodey cut in. "Let me guess-- you've just been holed up doing questionable science ever since they showed up. What's the plan here, Tony? Just have all these guys move in and get to know each of them less and less? Where's that going to leave the next one?"

Tony snorted.

"Like Captain Spangly Pants is ever going to agree to that," he said. "Speaking of people recently involved in questionable spy activities, do you know who Pepper hired to be my new vice president of global outreach?"

"Yes, Tony, because some of us actually pay attention to Stark Industry press releases."

"If I wanted to have to pay attention to that kind of thing, I wouldn't have given Pepper the company," Tony said, pointing a fry emphatically. "No one with that much spying in their job history should have that much access to my things."

"I'm sure Pepper wouldn't have hired her if you couldn't trust her," Rhodey pointed out.

"Pepper has always been too buddy buddy with those SHIELD agents," Tony said. "Former SHIELD agents. I wouldn't trust any of them as far as I could throw them."

"With a suit, that's pretty far," Rhodey said.

"And that is fishing," Tony retorted.

"Fine, then let me say it. It's been six months. Are you really not going to make any more suits?" Rhodey looked Tony straight in the eyes. When Tony's gaze darted off to the ceiling, the table, anywhere else, Rhodey had his answer.

"Is that my friend asking, or Colonel Rhodes?" Tony asked, fingers drumming on top of the table.

"Hey," Rhodey said, hands up, "Forget I said anything."

He silently tabled any and all questions related to the Winter Soldier and Tony's new pet project. Pepper wouldn't appreciate any new tabloid headlines tomorrow morning about Iron Man and the Iron Patriot's fallout, framed around a picture of Tony storming away from the table.

"I was thinking Thursday should be game night," Tony said. "Does Thor seems more like a Risk or Monopoly kind of guy?"

***

Three shirts and a pair of pants stacked on top of a small box full of various fruits and instant meals had been left beside the door to the apartment. Someone was watching him.

He tore the clothes at their seams, searching for recording devices, hidden explosives. Nothing. The food came up clean too.

Someone was watching him and it wasn't Hydra. His hand tightened around the tattered pair of pants.

"You should learn to darn your own pants, if you're gonna keep getting them ruined," a man from a hazy memory scolded him.

"I'll learn if you'll teach me," he heard his voice reply.

"Come on, Buck, like you'd ever sit still long enough for that," the Man on the Bridge said, his voice too bright, too fond. Bucky never told the Man that his mother had made sure he knew how to sew as soon as he was old enough to thread a needle. He didn't miss the smile on the Man's face when he gave back the repaired clothes, that he could do at least this little thing for Bucky.

The pants fell to the floor. He staggered away, backing into a wall. He had to check his weapons, the perimeter-- he should leave. Someone was watching and he didn't know what they wanted from him.

"You're my friend," the Man on the Bridge said, and he was all at once the strong man bleeding in the Winter's Soldier's hands, and that impossibly fragile boy sewing a patch onto pants he'd snagged on one of the parts at work.

Someone was watching but--

"You're my mission," he had said. He didn't know what that meant anymore. What he did know is that the people in Stark Towers were linked with that man. He just had to wait.

He would find out who was watching. He couldn't afford to leave just yet.

***

Canada didn't top the list of places that Sam would've thought made Hydra's top ten places for secret labs, but since meeting Steve he'd learned that it was best in cases like that to stop having expectations. He just wished there was a way to magically take away all the ones Steve had about Bucky.

"He was always the popular one," Steve had said one night, long after they should've been asleep, and nothing but the hum of a crappy motel air conditioner to keep them company. "Different girl every week."

"Didn't like commitment?" Sam had asked. If Cap needed a little darkness to make the words come easier, he wouldn't hold it against the man.

"Didn't like the way they treated me," Steve confessed. "He was always trying to make it into a double date, but-- let's just say it never went well. He liked to pretend, though, that he just liked playing around. Wanted to let me save a little face."

"Can't blame the guy. We all know what a fragile ego you have," Sam joked. Steve laughed quietly.

"Back then, yeah, maybe I did," he said. "I always wished he'd quit it with the dates. And now I kinda miss it. Stupid, right?"

"Not stupid at all," Sam said instantly.

"We used to sneak into the movies, sometimes," Steve said, his voice wistful in a way that reached straight into Sam's chest and twisted. "If the flick was good, he'd take a date there later, and he'd know all the good places to get an arm around her."

Probably more than that, Sam thought.

"Well, when we catch up to him, you guys can go through that list of yours together," Sam said. "He probably missed out on Star Wars, too. Which has got to the real tragedy here."

"I'd like that," Steve said, laughing. Sam thanked God every day that Steve could still laugh like that, because now and then he couldn't believe the shit that the universe kept putting him through. His mamma liked to say that God never gave you more than you could handle, but he'd seen too much now to believe that anymore. He didn't want to have to see what would happen when Steve hit that point.

Watching Steve rummage through another useless set of files, Sam knew with absolute certainty Steve couldn't take much more disappointment. If there had been even a hint, a whisper, that they were on the right track, it would have been one thing. That's the kind of thing that keeps hope alive, no matter how faint.

At least Canada was closer to New York than they'd been in Austria, if he was going to have to drag Steve home by force.

"Hello, boys," Natasha said.

"Jesus Christ," Sam gasped, maybe a little over-dramatically clutching at his heart. "Don't sneak up on a guy like that. I might've hurt you."

Natasha doesn't deign to pretend that could be true. He would've been the one doing a quick spin in the air and coming down hard on the floor.

"Natasha," Steve said, surprise painted across his face. "What're you doing here?"

"Oh you know, just apartment hunting," she said. "What's this, 1000 square feet?"

"I don't know, I hear the last tenants did a real number on the place," Steve said. "I might keep looking if I was you."

"Nothing a new coat of paint couldn't fix. Fine, fine," she said, at Steve's expression, "I might've felt a little bad for you. So I came to tell you that you might want to check out New York."

"What?" Steve asked sharply, suddenly tense and a little too Captain America for Sam's taste.

"Let's just say I've heard a few things. Besides, you know Tony's been dying to have you over, trying to collect them all or something," she said.

"Great, I haven't been to New York in ages," Sam said.

"Probably a bit more beat up than you remember it," Natasha said, her mouth twitching upwards.

"You coming with us?" Steve asked, stepping away from the files, looking like he was ready to run to New York then and there.

"No, sorry, not this time." Steve nodded, his mouth set back in that determined line Sam had seen so many times. It was like the world was Steve's compass but instead of pointing north, it kept swinging towards Bucky.

What Sam couldn't bring himself to ask, not with Steve so close to snapping, is whether he wanted those dates to stop because he hated disappointing Bucky and the girls every time, or because he wanted something else entirely that was always just out of his reach. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't make a difference.

***

"How was your day, my fair Jane?" Thor asked when Jane finally slumped down into bed around four in the morning.

"Tony Stark is insane," Jane said into her pillow. "And Bruce Banner keeps looking at me like he expects me to run away screaming. And I swear if Darcy doesn't stop 'accidentally' tripping into-- what's his name? Barton? I'm sending her back to London, like, yesterday."

"Are things not going well?" Thor wanted to know. Jane rolled over, grinning stupidly.

"It's amazing," she gushed. "It's so far out of what I was trying to do, but with everything that's happened-- the tech that Tony has at his disposal-- and the things we've all been able to do together. It's everything I could want."

"Then I am happy for you," he said, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.

"What about you?" Jane asked, catching hold of his hand. "What'd you do today?"

"Lady Potts was kind enough to provide an escort for me so I could partake in the many things this city has to offer," Thor said. "Though it did become difficult when people kept wanting to take my picture. So I returned here. There are many fine training facilities in this building."

"Did you talk to Barton at all?" Jane asked, her fingers gently running over his knuckles. "Since I know you haven't been talking with Tony or Bruce."

"We did not cross paths," Thor said. Jane forced herself up, catching his eye.

"We don't have to stay here," she said. "If you don't want to. I still have my work back in London. I'm sure Erik's getting lonely. Darcy would be more manageable if Ian was on the same continent."

"I do not understand," Thor said slowly.

"It's just, well," Jane stammered, suddenly finding it much easier to look at their hands. "You know. If you're not happy here. You don't seem like you're happy. I mean, obviously you don't have to be happy. I get it. You lost your mom, and your brother. You gave up your home. I just-- if you don't want to be here, that we can do something about. Okay?"

Thor moved and Jane found herself enveloped in his arms.

"Thank you for your concern," he said, with that almost embarrassing sincerity of his. "But as long as you are happy, Jane, there is no need for us to leave. I am simply finding it difficult to balance the loss of my brother, as you said, with the perception of him I know my teammates to have. Barton most of all. And I find I yet do not know how to bridge that divide. I believe it will, as you might say, take time."

"Oh," Jane breathed. "Okay."

"I am always happy when you are near," Thor said, shifting.

"Me too," Jane said, her heart racing like it always did, as his lips touched hers-- would she ever get used to this, to him? (God, she hoped not. She wouldn't trade this feeling for the world. Well-- at least not most of it. Stark did have some amazing equipment)

***

"Woah there," Clint said, a knife pressed against his neck. "I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot."

"What is Hawkeye doing on my doorstep?" the Winter Soldier asked, forcibly directing Clint into the apartment.

The blood would be such a bitch to get out of this shirt, Clint noted with a resignation. He liked this shirt.

"Since my last present didn't go over so well-- and hey, I get it, we all have different taste in fashion, I figured I'd try again," Clint said, wincing as the knife scrapped against his skin. He would've thought the legendary Winter Soldier would have steadier hands.

Maybe Steve wasn't chasing after a ghost in vain.

"Don't move," the Winter Soldier hissed, releasing his death grip only long enough to pat Clint down. He dropped the phone and credit card on the floor that Clint had been keeping in his pocket.

"Those are for you," Clint said. "So you can buy pants you actually like. And some food. Seriously, order a pizza or something. It'll be good for you."

"I should just kill you," the Winter Soldier said.

"Personally, I'm opposed to that plan," Clint said. And never let it be say that he wasn't one for taking chances. "Steve would be too."

The knife never left the Winter Soldier's hand, and with a better look at him Clint clocked at least two guns on his person. Still, he stepped back, and that wasn't nothing.

"Look, you can keep the phone and credit card, or you can smash them into little pieces. It's up to you. There's only one number programmed into the phone right now, and it goes to my direct line," Clint said. "If you ever need anything."

"What could I need from you?" the Winter Soldier snarled. Clint shrugged.

"Who knows? Sometimes aliens come out of portals in the sky and a guy could use an extra set of hands," Clint said.

"You should leave," the Winter Soldier said abruptly. Clint nodded and left without another word. That had already gone better than he'd expected it to, he wasn't going to push his luck on this one.

He didn't call Natasha for a few hours, waiting to see what would become of the offered gifts this time.

"Tasha," he said, sitting in a cafe several blocks away from Stark Towers. "He knew who I was. He knew about the invasion. I think you're right. He has been researching us. And he kept the phone."

"Steve's coming to New York," she replied.

"Well," he said, "Things are about to get interesting."

***

"Look what the cat dragged in," Tony said. This time there were only two people in his lobby, and not an item of luggage between them. What kind of godforsaken trip had they been on?

"My friends usually call me Sam," the one Tony didn't know said with an easy smile. Tony found him incredibly suspicious. He looked entirely too well adjusted.

"Hello, Tony," Steve said, a polite smile plastered on his face.

"Don't hurt yourself," Tony sniped.

"Excuse me, I--"

"Am happy to be here. Thanks for having us," Sam cut in. "Is there any food around here? I'm starving."

"Is there any food," Tony spluttered. "Do you know where you are?"

Sam glanced outside. Most of the buildings were still under construction, and the streets had only recently become passable for traffic again.

"Come on. Allow me to suitably impress you before you start asking for favors," Tony said.

"What?" Steve said, startled.

"Please, Rogers, I don't hear from you for months. Thanks, by the way, I'm fine. Don't even worry about that whole Mandarin sitch. I totally handled it," Tony said. "But you just show up now? If you don't want something, then I'm worried."

Sam laughed.

"You got us," he said. "But you said something about impressing us? I dunno, man. That's hard to do nowadays."

"JARVIS," Tony said, "Make sure there's enough food and pomp and circumstance to wow these worldly gentlemen when we get upstairs."

"Of course, sir," JARVIS replied.

"Nice to meet you, JARVIS," Sam said. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Thank you, sir," JARVIS said, the traitor. Trust Rogers to ruin one of Tony's moments.

***

When Bruce first met Colonel James Rhodes, he was at a loss. Pepper called him James, Tony-- when not tossing out only semi-sarcastic endearments-- called him Rhodey, and the part of Bruce that had been around the military too often wanted to address him by rank.

Their first conversation had been brief.

"Doctor Banner, Tony tells me you'll be living here."

"For now," Bruce replied.

"I've got to run, but I'm sure I'll see you around."

The emails hadn't started until a few weeks later.

_I hear Tony left you alone in that mess of a tower. Pro-tip, he keeps the really good scotch in his bedside table._

_\- Rhodes_

Sure enough, he'd found three bottles exactly where Rhodes had said (what that said about Tony's sobriety- that was a different matter).

_The best TV is in the penthouse, because Pepper insisted._

_\- Rhodes_

_Supposed to be a pretty nifty meteor shower tonight, and I bet you'll get a pretty good view on the roof._

_\- Rhodes_

He never replied, never knew what to say. Rhodes didn't seem to mind.

_Rumors of Tony's death have been greatly exaggerated. He probably forget to let you know._

_-Rhodes_

The few times since then Bruce had seen Rhodes in person, they'd been just as cordial and short as the first. Rhodes had the look of a man who had seen the footage of what Bruce was capable of and had decided to keep a respectful distance.

Pepper had become part of his life, and was now justifiably unafraid of him, being more indestructible than most everyone else on the planet. Rhodes was still a loose end. Looking across the lab, seeing Tony arguing so intensely with Jane, Bruce had to swallow that ridiculous lump that formed in his throat. Wanting things was a foolish pursuit for a man like him. But even if this was all they ever were (this was all they could ever be-- he had to accept that) he had to make more of an effort.

_How's the weather in D.C.?_

_-Bruce_

***

The alarm, which sounded suspiciously like a dub-step remix of Star Spangled Man, blared throughout the entire tower. It took Thor and Clint only a minute to make it down to the labs where they found Tony and Sam shouting at each other, and Jane and Bruce looking more guilty than ought to be humanly possible.

"Hey!" Clint shouted. Sam and Tony shut up. "Okay, first, shut that stupid alarm off, and second, what the hell happened?"

"Yeah, tell them what happened," Sam spat.

"Hey, I told him not to touch it," Tony snarled.

"Steve's gone," Jane blurted out.

"Come again," Clint said.

"The project-- it's just-- he touched it and there was this flash, and he was gone," Jane said. Thor placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It will be all right, Jane," he said, his voice like a soothing rumble.

"What exactly were you three working on?" Clint asked.

"We were seeing if we could apply Jane's work on cosmic bridges into a more practical world application," Bruce said.

"Teleportation," Sam said through clenched teeth. "They were making a goddamn teleportation device that they said could take you wherever you wanted to go most and Steve--"

Clint's phone beeped.

"Is now really the time for that, Barton?" Tony snapped, pacing around the room. "Okay, look, he's probably just out there somewhere, so we just have to figure out where."

"What if he's not?" Sam said, a dangerous note in his voice. "What if he's not anywhere because your stupid little science project disintegrated him?"

"It didn't disintegrate him," Tony said scathingly.

"No," Clint said. "It didn't."

"See, at least someone here has a half a brain. Wait, say that again?" Tony said, turning sharply on his heels.

"He's across the street," Clint said. "Guess your device worked after all."

Tony's gaped, his mouth opening, then closing, as though he wanted to speak but suddenly found he didn't have any words.

"You're kidding me," Sam said, putting his hand over his face. "Goddamn Bucky Barnes has been across the street the whole time? This day just keeps getting better."

Clint quickly sent off a text amidst the flutter of conversation the revelation brought on.

_I think you're going to have to come to New York after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to sigh_no_more for the beta! Title is from Nico Vega's song "I Believe (Get Over Yourself)" which somehow became my anthem for the team during this fic. 
> 
> Conclusion will hopefully be posted next week. I hope you enjoyed it so far :)


	2. Can Happen to the People it Should

"You have to come, Brucie. I'm suit-less and need a big strong green man to protect me in case of emergency," Tony said while he pocketed more than one thing Bruce knew to be highly explosive.

"You'll be fine," Bruce said.

"You're going to miss all the fun," Tony argued. "How often do you get to apprehend the most wanted assassin in the world?"

"Strangely, that never made it onto my bucket list," Bruce replied. Tony shook his head, sighing theatrically.

"Fine, stay here. Watch the lab. Make sure Jane's devil of an intern doesn't break anything important," Tony instructed.

"They're going to leave without you," Bruce said mildly.

"Kiss for luck?" Tony asked, that unfair grin of his curling the corners of his mouth.

"Very funny," Bruce said. Best to ignore the stutter in his heartbeat. "Don't do anything stupid."

Tony could smile all he wanted, like this was just another fun game. Bruce hadn't forgotten the look in his eyes when the news about Howard and Maria Stark had come to light. He didn't know what Tony expected, or wanted, from the Winter Soldier-- whether the fact that he was Steve's best friend or not could temper the revenge impulses that must lurking in the depths of Tony's mind.

"Sir," JARVIS said.

"I know, I know, the Birdy Twins are getting their panties in a twist. I'm on my way," Tony said.

"Captain Rogers has entered the building. With the Winter Soldier," JARVIS said, after a short hesitation.

"Oh," Tony replied.

"Should I initiate lockdown protocol?" JARVIS inquired.

"No, hold off on that," Tony said. "Just make sure Roger's floor has all the necessary security measures up and running."

"Will do, sir," JARVIS said.

"Guess we should go say hello," Tony said, his grin fixed in place. Bruce wanted to reach out and take him into his arms. The words "It'll be okay" stuck in his throat. He couldn't promise that.

He nodded.

What was waiting downstairs, Bruce couldn't say. But at least he could make it so Tony didn't have to ride the elevator down alone.

***

Sam steered Steve into the kitchen.

"Sit," he said. "I'll make the coffee."

"I'm fine," Steve said, like Bucky Barnes wasn't just down the hall being coded every way imaginable into the Tower's defense systems.

"I don't get what's happening here, but I'll let it slide if my lasers can disintegrate him if he so much as looks at someone cross-eyed," Tony had said, a little too cheerfully, before herding Bucky off for fingerprinting.

"I've been better," Steve admitted when Sam took the seat beside him, the coffee dripping away in the background.

"I don't want to make this awkward, but tell Barnes when he gets his shit together, he'll be reimbursing me for all travel expenses. In New York the whole time. Come on, man. The nerve of some people," Sam said. Steve's laughed even startled himself, enough of the tension melting from his shoulders that Sam felt like he could breathe again.

"Is this the part where you ask me what the plan is?" Steve asked.

"Do you have one?" Sam asked, eyebrow raised. Steve opened his mouth, looking like a kid who'd stolen the last cookie and just had to confess his sin. "Don't worry, I'm wasn't going to. We just have to take this one step at a time."

Steve looked at him, his eyes bright and so stupidly grateful. He'd have to be more careful around Stark. That man was definitely the type who wouldn't let a Disney Princess joke pass him by, and Sam wasn't above punching Iron Man in the mouth if he so much thought about suggesting Steve try "True Love's Kiss." He liked this place. It'd be a shame to get thrown out.

"He was waiting for me," Steve said, the words full of those long hours digging through files that could tell them everything about where Bucky had been, but nothing about where he had gone. Full of maybe something darker, that old hurt wrapped around Steve's heart.

"Did he think I was coming for him?" Steve had asked one night. "Was he waiting for me to save him?"

"Bucky would never blame you for what happened," Sam had said. He would say it again and again, however many times Steve needed to hear it before he could believe. Maybe someday Barnes could say it, and that would be enough.

"Even Barnes is smart enough to know Steve Roger's is the kind of guy you wait around for," Sam said. "And no one even got shot this time. We're already making progress."

The faint dusting of pink across Steve's cheeks was adorable. A little more of that, and maybe they'd continue the no gunshot wounds trend for the rest of the week. Surely even the Winter Soldier was not immune to that kind of charm.

"Thanks," Steve said. "For sticking around. I know this is all--"

He made a vague hand gesture.

"Just do me a one favor, and we'll call it even," Sam said.

"Anything," Steve said, too seriously.

"Don't ever touch anything that scientists tell you to leave alone ever again. This grey hair? That's all you, my friend."

***

"Do you want tea? Xanax? I'm sure Tony has some pretty sweet medication around here. Oh! JARVIS, play ocean sounds. Whales are very soothing," Darcy said.

"I do not need to be soothed," Jane hissed, pausing in her pacing for a moment.

"Really? Cause your face is doing that scrunchy thing you do when you get stressed. You're totally going to get wrinkles, you know," Darcy said, knowingly.

"I am not going to get wrinkles!" Jane exclaimed.

"It is all right, Jane. No harm has been done. The Captain is safe, and his friend has been recovered. You needn't worry," Thor said. He simply stood, letting Jane wander around the living room in endless circles, his presence an immovable touchstone that could weather all worries.

"I know," Jane said. "I'm very happy for them."

"Oh man, just think. You were totally on Hydra's watch list. If things had turned out differently they could've sent the tragically hot assassin after you," Darcy said.

"Thanks, Darcy," Jane said.

"No problem," Darcy said. "I'm starving. Watching you has really worked up an appetite. You guy want anything? I'm thinking Chinese."

"I'm not hungry," Jane said.

"You must eat, Jane," Thor said, caring even in his reproach.

"I'll just order a bunch of stuff and we can split it," Darcy offered. "Hey, JARVIS? What's the best Chinese place around here? And can I put this on one of Tony's cards?"

She wandered out of the room, and Jane slumped down onto the couch.

"Jane," Thor said, moving to sit beside her. "You are safe here."

"I know that. I mean, this isn't the first time we've had to deal with someone dealing with being brainwashed. But Erik can't even remember to wear pants half the time and--- what if we really had killed Steve? How could I face anyone again?" Jane wanted to know, leaning into Thor.

"You must not dwell on what might have been," Thor said. "It is hard enough to deal with what is, without adding to it. As for the Captain's friend, you must know I would never let him hurt you, though I do not believe that is his intention."

"I know. Besides, out of everyone here, I seriously doubt I'm very high on his hit list. If he has one," she said. She yawned, suddenly, and stretched out, laying her head down in Thor's lap. "Wake me up when the food gets here."

"Of course," he said, his hand gently petting her hair.

"She better not forget the egg rolls again," Jane muttered.

***

Tony was staring at the bed, wondering if it was even worth pretending he would sleep that night when Pepper finally came home.

"Hey, Pepper--"

"Don't, Tony," she said. For a moment, while taking off her heels, she seemed to consider if one of them would look better in his head. The moment passed-- probably when she remembered that wasn't so much an idle threat as something she could really do now.

"Bruce called?" Tony asked.

"The right question isn't whether Bruce called. Its why didn't you call," she said. Even halfway out of her dress and grabbing her sweatpants out of the dresser, Tony still felt a tingle of fear down his spine. And maybe a spike of lust that he tabled quickly-- that would go over about as well announcing his address to the entire internet.

"Okay," he said. "I realize I probably should've asked before I invited another super assassin to spend the night, but--"

"Tony," she snapped, striding across the room.

"Right. Shutting up," he said, hands up in an attempted mea culpa.

"Besides the ethical questions of even trying to make a teleportation device-- have you even thought about the damage that could do in the wrong hands?-- and believe me we're going to have a long, long conversation about that-- this is where I tell you I'm worried. Are you sure it's safe to keep him here?"

"Hey, come on, this is my tower. Our tower," he corrected hastily. "Do you really think I don't have security around his room ramped up to 11? No way he gets to us without us knowing, much less without something stopping him."

"Tony," Pepper sighed, and even if he didn't know exactly what she was going to say yet, he recognized the "You're missing the point" sigh from years of practice. Hell, he was the reason that sigh existed in the first place.

"What?" he asked, taking her hands. "This is me, Pep. Come on, I'd never let anyone in here that would hurt us knowingly."

"Not everything's a question about whether the person's going to literally stab us in our sleep," Pepper said. "Though if you want to talk about that, then yes, I am worried about you spending time with an unstable killer. You're not indestructible, Tony."

"Hey, no one's managed to kill met yet," he said.

"Don't joke about that," she said, squeezing his hand tighter. If it hurt a little, he'd never let her know. "But even besides that, we're in a good place right now. You're in a good place. Is having him here really the best idea?"

"It's fine--"

"No, it isn't," she cut in. "I've let you not talk about this. Maybe that was my mistake. I just didn't think I'd come home and find that you've decided you want to be roommates with the man who killed your parents."

He let go of her hands.

"I'll be in the lab," he said. "You should get some sleep. You've had a long day."

"Tony--"

"We'll talk later," he said. "Promise."

"Fine," she said. "But don't think I won't drag you out of there if I have to."

"I know, dear."

"One night, Tony," she said warningly.

"Thanks, babe." He kissed her quickly and started off towards the elevator.

"But do me a favor," she called after him. "At least have Bruce with you."

"But--"

"If you don't call him, I will," she said, crawling into bed. "JARVIS?"

"You win," Tony huffed. "I'll let him know you don't care about his beauty sleep."

"Fine," Pepper said.

"Fine," Tony sniped back.

"I love you," Pepper said, the elevator opening.

"Love you, too."

***

"Blue's really your color. Brings out your eyes," Clint said, taking a seat across from Bucky at the table where Steve had left him, an untouched cup of coffee sitting on top of the glass.

"You can't be the only person he sees," he'd heard Wilson say as he ushered Steve out of the room.

"But--"

"No buts, Steve. We're not just throwing any random person at him. This is your team. You trust them, remember? Barnes has enough problems without having him imprint his whole recovery on you," Wilson had said. Clint might see better from a distance, but he'd have to be blind to miss the look Steve shot his way as they passed. Barnes' cell phone hadn't gone unnoticed, then.

_Do I kick puppies? Cause Captain America's disappointment sure makes me feel like I do._

Natasha hadn't texted back. He hadn't heard from her at all since the science snafu but he liked to imagine her reading it at the airport, picking up a cheap souvenir to give to Steve as penance.

The Winter Soldier stared, his expression coolly disinterested.

"How're you liking this side of the street? Way better coffee, let me tell you."

"What do you want?" the Winter Soldier asked. Clint leaned back, trying to school his posture into something resembling open. The largest, very loud part of his brain kept shouting "Danger" because no matter how many guns Tony had pointed at the Winter Soldier's head, the man was still one of the most dangerous assassins who'd ever lived. But he'd come willingly-- and Clint knew the value of showing trust in someone else before you could expect any in return.

"I wanted to thank you," Clint said. "For texting me. A few more minutes of Captain America missing and I think I would've had to deal with a couple heart attacks."

"You didn't come," the Winter Soldier said after a moment. Then-- face still impassive-- "Someone more reliable around in case those aliens show up again?"

Clint laughed, loudly, from the stomach. The Winter Soldier flinched, almost imperceptibly (but he wasn't named Hawkeye for shits and giggles). Bad memories? Clint wondered. Or perhaps he simply hadn't heard the sound in so long he no longer remembered what it meant.

Clint stopped.

"Yes," he replied. "You can't miss him. He'll be the one who looks like a walking American flag."

Not so long ago, Nick Fury would've wept tears of joy to have someone like the Winter Soldier as a captive audience, seeing an endless map of possibilities for the Intel he could have provided SHIELD. All Clint could see now was just another good man who'd been screwed out of the life and death he deserved.

"Is that all?" the Winter Soldier asked, resting his metal hand atop the table. It wasn't a threat, exactly.

"Just one more thing," Clint said, standing. He dug around in his pockets for a second before producing the same phone he'd given him the first time. The Winter Soldier waited until it was safely placed on the table, and Clint's hands back to his sides, before reaching to take it in hand.

"Stark took this," he said.

"Tony's got his own reasons," Clint said. The Winter Soldier didn't blink. If he remembered what he'd done to Howard and Maria Stark, it didn't bother him enough to show. "So this is our secret, okay, JARVIS?"

"As long as it does not contradict any of Master Stark's direct orders," JARVIS agreed.

"Good enough for me," Clint said.

"Why?" the Winter Soldier asked, staring at the phone.

"I don't know why you're here," Clint said. "I suspect you might not either. But you are, and that's great. Just sometimes a man needs to know he's got a window."

He didn't wait around for a reply. He half expected to find Steve waiting outside the door, straining to hear what was being said-- but no, that wouldn't be the decent thing to do. More likely it would've been Sam, who Clint didn't know very well yet, but struck him as the kind of guy who'd be willing to do a lot of stupid things if it made Steve happy. He got that.

He pulled his phone out as soon as the door closed behind him.

_Whatever you're guilt-buying Steve, get two. We're gonna need some cute and fluffy things around here._

***

Picturing a long road to recovery had been easy-- no, maybe not easy, but simple, with nothing but Bucky's file in front of him. Steve had read, and then reread the meager handful of papers Natasha had managed to acquire until every horrifying procedure, every brutal assignment, had been burned into his memory and Sam had confiscated the folder for the good of mankind. He'd come to expect having to take Bucky in by force, and slowly, if at all, getting him back to the man he remembered still capable of making jokes right before zip-lining onto a train.

Bucky coming willingly took that simplicity away.

Clint stopped by to see him. Though what they talked about, if they talked, Steve had no clue. Nor did he know what to do with the fact that Clint (and Natasha) had known Bucky was here the whole time, and had let him keep looking in all the wrong places. Every time he hoped he was past this part, the one where his team kept important information from him, he was wrong.

"Too damn trusting," Bucky had accused him, once, one a rare night in a town during the war, more than a little alcohol smoothing the words' transition from mind to mouth. "They could've killed you. This could've killed you. Steve, how could you let them? You could've died. What would I have--"

Steve had disagreed then, partly to ignore the tears wetting the corner of Bucky's eyes, but he also meant it. Hoping people would be better didn't mean believing they were.  


Bucky had never been big on leaps of faith. He only really took one, and well, now he had a metal arm and no idea what it meant to be a person.

"Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice," Peggy had said. On the long list of their sins, Steve hated Hydra for making Peggy's words meaningless.

"Go run laps around central park until all the other joggers hate you, go get a cup of coffee, I don't care, you just have to get out of here. Right now," Sam had ordered. "I'll sit with him while you're gone. For at least an hour. I mean it."

He'd run the laps, gotten the coffee, but the hour mark still felt far away. He'd briefly toyed with the idea of calling Peggy-- he hadn't talked to her in too long, let himself get wrapped up in this, and he missed her. But as he stared at her contact info in his phone he couldn't bring himself to talk to another old friend who might not remember who he was. He already had an afternoon of trying to coax Bucky into speaking, trying to pretend that it was okay that Bucky stared at him as if he were a problem to be solved, to look forward to.

He took a seat on a park bench, for the first time in a while wishing he had a sketch book with him. At least it would've given his hands something to do. (But what would have been the point, when the only thing he would've scribbled down would've been Bucky. He could watch the footage online over and over again and it wouldn't put that smile back on Bucky's face. He hadn't gotten a last trip to the Smithsonian in before leaving DC. All he had was the picture burning a hole in his pocket, stolen out of the file before Sam had taken it, crumbled around the edges from too many nights clasped in his hands as though he could summon Bucky to him from sheer force of will.)

He sighed. There was no point in getting so maudlin. Things were what they were. The only choice was to keep moving forward.

The noise level suddenly picked up, a lot of hushed whispered and excited gasps filling the air. Steve turned his head to locate the source of the commotion.

Strolling down the sidewalk was Thor. Though whether the people staring recognized him, or were simply appreciating the way the t-shirt seemed to be glued to his abs, it was hard to say.

"Captain Rogers," Thor greeted him. "Do you mind?"

He gestured at the space beside Steve.

"Not at all," Steve was quick to assure him. "And please, call me Steve."

Thor nodded, and when he sat, even clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, it was not hard to see the way his body was trained to think it had to adjust for armor and a cape.

"So, out enjoying the fresh air?" Steve asked.

"I was looking for you," Thor said. "JARVIS was kind enough to tell me where I would likely find you."

"Oh," Steve said. And though it seemed highly unlikely, given the way Thor was dressed, he had to ask: "Dinosaurs attacking downtown or something?"

"No, the city is at peace for the moment," Thor replied. "It is a more personal matter that I seek to discuss."

"Of course," Steve said, adopting his team leader voice. "What can I help you with?"

"My lady Jane still feels badly for placing you in danger," Thor said.

"I think it worked out pretty well," Steve said. "Nothing to feel bad about."

"Truly," Thor said, nodding. "I have told her as much, but it will help to put her mind at ease knowing you feel the same."

"Of course," Steve said. "I'd be happy to talk to her, if you think it'll help."

"I would appreciate that," Thor replied. "But truthfully that is also not what brought me here. I have seldom seen you, since we both came to inhabit the tower."

"I know," Steve said. "I've been a little preoccupied."

Thor shook his head.

"That is not what I meant," he corrected gently. "Although we have rarely crossed paths, each time we have I recognized in you a burden similar to one I have long carried. It is a hard thing to see one's brother's mind go so far afield."

"Bucky is not like Loki," Steve said. "No offense."

"No," Thor agreed. "In many ways he is not. My brother had far more agency in his own fate. Still, I know something of what it is like to look into the face of the man you grew up with, who you loved, and see a stranger looking back."

"I don't--"

"We are teammates, Steve Rogers," Thor said. "You need not carry your burdens alone."

"Thank you," Steve croaked, a rush of affection towards Thor going straight to the sensitive part of his heart. He cleared his throat. "It means a lot to hear that."

"Though we are more advanced on Asgard in many ways, still we struggle with a remedy for an ailing mind. But take heart, Steve Rogers, even my own brother found a way back, even if only for a moment, before the end."

A few moments passed in comfortable silence, Thor having said his piece, and Steve enjoying the easy companionship.

"That cart over there has the best hotdogs," Steve said eventually. "You hungry?"

"I haven't yet had the opportunity to try one of these 'hotdogs'."

"Oh man, you are in for a treat."

***

Tony wasn't quite seeing double, but it was a near thing. He'd gotten soft these last few months. What was thirty-six or so hours without sleep, really?

Bruce had wandered away to get tea, yawning through his words, "Sit down, Tony. I'm not going to explain to Pepper why you fell head first into something sharp and pointy."

Bruce was really turning into such a spoilsport. He was Tony goddamn Stark-- a little lack of sleep wasn't going to send him careening into important machinery.

"Sir, Colonel Rhodes is on the line," JARVIS said.

Speaking of spoilsports.

"Put him through," Tony said.

"Very well, sir," JARVIS replied.

"Tony," Rhodey's voice filtered in. Tony frowned. That was not Rhodey's "You're my best friend and staying in touch is important for relationships" voice. No, this was definitely the "Shit is Going Down" voice.

"Please don't tell me you broke your suit," Tony groaned. "That's so last year."

"I don't have time for that today, Tony," Rhodey snapped. "I'll be on my way up to New York in a few hours. Listen--"

"Pick up dinner on the way," Tony interjected, twirling an errant spanner between his fingers. He really had neither the time nor patience for another crisis. Surely the president had a few competent employees left.

"Tony," Rhodey said. "Shut up."

He vaguely remembered a time when people would fawn over him just for being him. When had that stopped?

"Look, there's been some chatter about Hydra planning something big. We don't know exactly when, but you need to be careful," Rhodey said, trying to impress the seriousness of the situation upon Tony.

Right-- somewhere around the time he'd started spending time with people who actually gave a shit about him.

"I'm the living embodiment of caution, babe," Tony said, doing his best impression of soothing. Rhodey snorted so loud it sounded like he might've cracked something.

"Just do me a favor and stick close to Doctor Banner," Rhodey said. "I'll see you in a few."

"Since when did Bruce become my approved nanny?" Tony asked, though Rhodey had already signed off.

"Would you like me to play the clip where the Hulk saves you from plummeting to your untimely demise again, sir?" JARVIS asked.

"No, that won't be necessary," Tony said as Bruce walked in, balancing two mugs and a plate of food that looked far too healthy.

"What won't be necessary?" Bruce asked.

"Nothing, babe," Tony said, that slow burn of affection rumbling around inside of him that was equal parts grand gestures like New York, and the smaller things like that crap Bruce was inevitably going to force him to choke down in the name of not dying from nutrition deficiencies. "Oh-- Rhodey's coming by later."

"I thought he was needed in DC?" Bruce asked, handing one of the mugs to Tony.

"Mm, I think he said something about an imminent Hydra attack. Probably nothing to worry about. Is this chamomile tea? Do you hate me? Tell me, Brucie, what I've done to deserve this punishment."

_"Tony."_

"What? I know we have better tea than this."

***

He'd let them take his weapons. He'd let them dress him in clothes they had personally checked and approved. He'd let them take his finger prints, his DNA, and his choice whether he could leave Stark Tower. (Except for Hawkeye, who promised freedom if he needed it, though he did not know why, and so he did not trust it)

Each day he rediscovered words and that, all of that, smacked of incredible stupidity. He liked that word, stupid. It had a flavor that words like right and wrong lacked. It wasn't an absolute. And it caught on the whisper of a memory--

"Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

He stared at the Man on the Bridge who keep saying a name over and over: "Bucky. Remember when, Buck? God, Bucky, you should see some of the things Stark's got around here. Can't believe it's the same city sometimes, Buck."

It was an intellectual exercise where the Man wanted it to be an emotional one. He had seen the exhibit, had seen the proof that once he had been James Buchanan Barnes, this Bucky who's name sounded like a prayer on the Man's lips. He had no interest, but then again no objection, to reclaiming those names. It was no better or worse than being the Winter Soldier, being the Asset.

That was not the name he was interested in hearing pronounced in the Man's voice, the one he heard only from others, directed sometimes at him, sometimes in low tones towards the Man, in conversations they did not want him to be privy to. They were, however, none of them, adept enough at whispering to hide such things from him.

"You can't forget to take care of yourself, too," the man who had once had wings said. "Even you can't make dark circles under the eyes look good, Steve."

"You don't have anything to prove, Steve," he could hear himself say. "I can support us just fine without you working so hard you collapse."

"You shouldn't have to," the Man replied, meeting Bucky's gaze straight on, that damn fire in his eyes that kept him from dying when he got pneumonia in the winter, but also got him more black eyes than Bucky cared to count.

He didn't know what to make of the thoughts that he could feel on the edge of a memory like that, white hot and mixed in with emotions he could not yet identify.

The name he kept for himself, testing it on his tongue, but never uttering it aloud. They could have his possessions, and all the pieces they cared to collect. They were as meaningless as the names they called him. This--this was worth protecting. More than he knew himself, he knew that to be true.

He just had to wait, and he was very good at waiting. Sooner or later the Man would say that name. Then, perhaps, he would be free to use it himself. To respond to every "Bucky" and say it again and again: "Steve. Steve. _Steve."_

***

_Meet me at Bulldog on 3rd and Kent in twenty._

Natasha was already sitting outside when Clint arrived, one cup in her hand, another waiting on the table for him. Propped up against it were two small teddy bears.

"Where did you find these?" Clint asked, picking one up. It had a little shield and everything. "These are way too nice to be from the airport. I didn't know they even made Bucky Bears anymore."

"They don't," Natasha replied. "But someone owed me a favor, and I think they look better a set, don't you?"

Clint put the Captain America down, leaning it against its counterpart.

"I'm glad you're here, Tasha," he said.

"Has the situation changed?" she asked him.

"Barnes is the same," Clint said. "But I haven't seen so much as one agent since we took him in. I got a bad feeling, Tasha."

She nodded, sipping at her coffee.

"Stark means well," Natasha said after a pause. "For the most part. But he still understands very little of the world he's gotten mixed up in."

"What, you mean having all the Avengers, the Winter Soldier, and a shiny new teleportation device all in one place might mean trouble?" Clint snorted. "Who would've thought."

She smiled, then, a small private curve of her lips he liked to think usually reserved for him.

"For now," she said, "we can only wait. The chatter's been pretty quiet. Everyone's still spooked, afraid to let any more secrets get dumped online, not sure who to trust anymore."

"Want to head back to the tower? I can't wait to see Steve's face when you give him these," Clint said, a little too gleefully. "Tony's going to be so annoyed he didn't think of it first."

"Stark's fine with the situation?" Natasha asked, eyebrow raised.

"No," Clint said. "But don't tell him that."

She nodded, filing the confirmation away for later.

"In a minute," she said. "It's a nice day."

Not for nothing had Clint been an elite secret agent. But when Natasha hooked her foot around his ankle, it took a strength of character that would make Captain America proud not to grin stupidly for everyone to see.

He knew when this was over, she'd have to leave again. That would always be their life. It was enough. Moments like this made it enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to sigh_no_more for the edits, and thank you to everyone who's taken the time to read this so far! 
> 
> Suffice to say the story got away from me a little, so now it's going to be twice as long as planned. Hopefully the next chapter will be up this weekend, instead of another two weeks
> 
> Any quotes you recognized were lifted straight from the movies.


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